


Strangers in the Night: The Count

by totallynotnatalie



Series: F4M Strangers in the Night Series [4]
Category: GWA - Fandom, Original Work, gonewildaudio - Fandom
Genre: 1920s Detective, Blow Jobs, F/M, Mild Degradation, Mystery Plot, Nipple Play, Noir Theme, Orgasm Control, cum on breasts, narration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:54:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28162764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/totallynotnatalie/pseuds/totallynotnatalie
Summary: Strangers in the Night is designed to a ten part script half told from the perspective of a female detective and half told from the perspective of a male detective. So, five M4 scripts and five F4 scripts. However, the listener would still easily be able to follow the plot by only listening to their preferred half. For that reason, I'm not numbering the parts as this is both part 7 (if you're following both series) and part 4 (if you're only following the F4 series) Also, each script is designed to work in isolation and no performer should feel pressured to do more than one
Relationships: F4M
Series: F4M Strangers in the Night Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063121





	Strangers in the Night: The Count

**Author's Note:**

> This is a script for the GWA subreddits. Please contact me before posting a recording of this work anywhere else.
> 
> This content is intended for 18+ audiences only.
> 
> Feel free to modify the script to meet your needs.

F4M] Strangers in the Night: The Count [Noir Theme][1920s Detective][Fdom][Nipple Play][Orgasm Control][Cum on Breasts][Mild Degradation][Blowjob][Teasing][Narration][Mystery Plot]

Script Notes: This script is done in the style of noir fiction. It is meant to mimic the voiceover given at the beginning of most old noir films. However, I think any accent can work with this script.

Setting Notes: Like most noir, this takes place in the 1920s in this case on a 1920s ocean liner.  
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A small crowd had gathered by the time I reached the site of the screams. I wasn't surprised to see that sounds had been coming from the heiress's cabin. The girl had nearly been murdered by falling a chandelier two days before, and any good detective knows that would-be-killers will do anything to make lightening strike twice. 

It didn't take long for me to take in the scene, as gruesome as it was. The heiress had taken several stab wounds to chest. She now laid motionless in a pool of her own blood. There was no sense trying to save her. The girl was probably dead before she even hit the floor. 

I suppose that I ought to have been sad. But, in truth, I didn't have the heart to feel sorry for her. The girl was a spoiled brat. And I had recently discovered that she was also a petty thief. As awful as her death was, I couldn't really say that a snotty little heiress who stole for sheer entertainment of it deserved a better end. 

However, I did feel a bit annoyed at myself for not being quicker. If I had managed to crack the case earlier, the girl would still be alive and I would be able to bask in the admiration of the ship's many famous passengers. But, as it was, they were all currently focused on a certain other detective who also happened to have taken a bit too much of an interest in the heiress' death. 

He stood above her holding a crying girl in his arms. *laugh* He looked half way between comforting her and yelling at her for ruining his suit. Although, given the circumstances, why he didn't consider the latter to be of trivial was beyond me.

From what I was able to gather, the crying girl was the heiress' maid. She had been found in the same room as the brat holding a stained knife. She claimed that the heiress' had attacked her and that she had used the knife in self-defense. However, the crowd felt that her words were a pretty thin excuse for an alibi. The heiress had no clear motive for killing the maid. They knew it. And I knew it too. Even with the all the evidence I had found, I couldn't think of a single thing that would have provoked such an attack. 

Yes, the heiress was a thief. But why would that lead her to attack a maid? Unless the maid was also an undercover counterfeiter-which I doubted, the heiress had no reason to kill her. 

However, the crowd conveniently seemed to have forgotten that the maid also lacked a motive. She had as little reason to kill the heiress as the heiress had to kill her. No matter who attacked who-the entire scene was quite strange. What sort of connection could these two ladies possible have? And what was the cause of such strife? 

As I searched my mind for answers, I saw the other detective leading the maid away-mumbling something about a bath. I moved to try and stop them, but then I thought better of it. No matter what he did, the girl was only going to repeat her sob story, so I might as well as let him waste his time. 

Beside, I was more than familiar with his particular method of interrogation and felt no need to rob him of the ridiculous notion that a girl was innocent as long as she was still a virgin.

So, instead, I turned back to the crowd and began to inspect the scene for clues. While I found nothing of interest, my work did attract the attention of the girl's father. He was a wealthy count with a far too large fortune. While he was polite and made no attempt to hinder my investigation, something about him seemed off. He had been absolutely distraught when the chandelier had nearly killed in daughter, but now he seemed oddly calm. 

Of course, I knew better than to put much stock into how somebody reacts to death. I had seen more than my fair share of murders and people had all sorts of reactions to them. Sailors broke down bailing. Fragile little waifs remained stoney faced. There was no predicting it. 

However, the count was the only lead I had at the moment. So, I offered to take him back to his cabin for questioning and he, perhaps to get away for the sight of his daughter's dead body, readily agreed. 

When we got to his suite, he gave me an eager smile and opened the door with a flourish. As I walked in, I had to stifle a gasp. I had thought that my fist class room was lavish, but he had a full parlor suite. Rather than a bedroom, I walked into the most expensive sitting room that I had ever seen. It had a full fireplace, two sofas, and several plush chairs. 

I could tell that my compatriot was excited to show it off-although I was unsure why he had taken such an interest in my opinion and not his dead daughter. He sat down on one of the sofas and offered me a drink-which I took. I didn't ask what he gave me. I had a feeling if I knew how expensive it was, I would feel disgusted for drinking it. He had no such qualms and gulped his down. 

He seemed relaxed. However, I realized quickly that my proceeding round of questioning would yield no results. He didn't attempt to dodge any queries, but his answers were exactly as I expected them to be. Entirely uninformative. 

*sigh* He was definitely hiding something and I knew I would have a better chance of finding it if I searched his compartment. And the sooner the better, if I left him alone then he might have a chance to hide evidence. 

However, I obviously couldn't search with him watching me and I couldn't risk knocking him out. A rich fella like him probably had a soft head and I wasn't about to chance accidentally killing the wealthiest man this side of the Atlantic. Thankfully, there was a more humane option. I just needed to get the lad to fall asleep. 

*laugh* And I did know one thing that would get any man's eyes to droop.

When he finished answering my last question, I made some off-handed remark about how warm the room was and undid the first few buttons on my blouse. *laugh* It was the oldest trick in the book, but I knew it would still work. Rich gentleman do love to charm and I doubted that his choice of wine was an accident. 

He caught my meaning immediately and removed his jacket. He slid next to me on the coach and tried to put his arm around me. But I caught his hand. *laugh* I wasn't about to make this easy for him. I needed to tire him out. Besides, rich men never have to work for anything. So, he could do with a little lesson in delayed gratification.

I gave him a wink and told him-"If you want it sweetie, then you're going to have to work for it". 

He looked irritated. I could tell that he wasn't used to being told no. But I had no intention of giving into his tantrum. I gripped his hand tighter and eyed him firmly. For a moment it looked like he was going to yell, but then....he kissed me.

Mhmmm. 

And I refused to placate him with a moan, but I still let myself lean into the taste of his lips. They felt so good. 

My grip on his arm remained strong as he slid his tongue into my mouth and let it dance around mine. The two played a little game of cat and mouse while he tried to grabbed at my chest. But I wouldn't let him. Not yet. *laugh* He had to earn it.

However, this time, he didn't waste a moment pouting. He just moved his lips further down to tease at my neck. It felt wonderful, but I still refused to cry out. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he caused me pleasure. After all, if he didn't know, it would just make him work harder. 

Once I felt myself start to get wet, I decided that he had done enough to earn a glimpse at my chest. So, I undid the remain buttons on my blouse and slid everything off. He stared. I grinned and told him that he would have to please them before he could touch them. 

*laugh* Still dazed from the sight, he nodded and then put his mouth to work. Slowly, he kissed all around my breast. First, the outside and then further and further in. He was very thorough in his work-careful to leave no inch untouched. 

I still wouldn't moan for him. But I let my hands roll over his back-just to give him some encouragement. And he showed his gratitude by finally putting his mouth over my nipple and starting to suck. 

*laugh* This time, I had to bite my lip to stop myself from letting out a sigh. I felt my chest grow harder as he continued to tease it. I squirmed and pushed his head into my bosom. He let out a moan and I took delight in knowing that he was enjoying this far more than I was. 

Finally, he pulled his head back and looked at me questioningly. I answered him by placing his hands on my nipples. He had done more than enough to be allowed to fondle me. His eyes lit up and he greedily started running his fingers all over me. 

While he got his fix, I slid my hand into his trousers to feel just how excited his little workout had made him. *laugh* I was pleased to find that his beautiful cock had already grown hard and wet. I ran it between my fingers-just to remind him who was in control. 

He immediately cried out in joy. Mhmm, I guess it had been a long time for him. I shouldn't have been surprised. (teasing) A man that rich must have been compensating for something, even if his cock said otherwise. 

He finally regained his composure enough to undo his trousers. And then, my hand was free to play with him without any restraint. I moved my hand up and down his sweet cock as he struggled to keep his fingers on my body. 

*sigh* Such an easy tease....

I took his hand off my chest and placed it on his growing cock. He looked at my questioningly. 

"Work for it", I whispered. 

So, he began to pump. Slowly at first. But then, faster and faster as his cock grew thick and his body started to sweet. 

But it still wasn't enough for me. I wanted to push him further. So, I kissed him-first his mouth and then his neck. He moan and move his hand up to grab me. But I pushed it back down. 

"No, no. Don't stop", I warned. 

He nodded and I went back to pleasuring him. I gave him some soft bites on his neck as I felt him start to shake and tremble. *laugh* He was already so close. (teasing) I guess you can't expect a rich man to never learn to wait for he wants. 

I gave him another kiss. He hadn't quite done enough to earn my pussy tonight. But I was happy to lend him my mouth for a bit. 

I slid off the sofa and bent down next to his now soaking cock. I smirked up at him. I wasn't going to give him much. Tonight, his pleasure was his responsibility. But...I was happy to help him along.

I teased his shaft with a few little kisses before putting his sweet thick cock in my mouth. I slowly bobbed my head back and forth-somehow making him even harder. He moaned and reached down to pull at my hair. Normally, I wouldn't have let him but *laugh* I was a bit preoccupied at the moment.

Undeterred, I pushed his cock to the back of my throat and bobbed faster. I felt him shake with delight as he felt my beautiful warm mouth all over him. With each shake of my head, he grew closer and closer...

Mhmmm.

I heard him gasped and I knew that he was finally at the edge. I pulled my head back and held my chest out-giving him permission to cum on my wonderful breasts. 

I whispered-"finish for me"

And he let out a cry and placed his hand back on his overflowing cock. He gave it three quick pumps...

And then I felt him explode all over me. Sheer joy on his face. His body trembling from the intensity. His gasping breath lost in the warm night air. 

*laugh* I guess he had fun. 

As he calmed down, I crawled back on the sofa and curled up next to him. I rubbed some circles on his back in an attempt to get him to sleep, but it didn't take long. He must have been quite worn from our little game because it only took him about five minutes to pass out. 

The second after he fell asleep, I got up and started searching the compartment. His suite had a total of five rooms including two bedrooms and private bath. I had no idea why one person would ever need so much, but it took a damn long time to sort through everything. Thankfully, the count was apparently in need of a good rest and didn't wake for any of it. 

The first four rooms turned up nothing of interests. I was about to give up when I noticed that the drawer on his bedside table was slightly ajar. I opened it and found a series of letters. A quick examination told me that they were a correspondence between the count and somebody unfamiliar. However, I had no time to look further. I heard the count starting to stir from the sitting room. So, I slid the letters into my purse and bid him a quick goodbye before he could fully wake. 

Once outside, I headed straight for my cabin. I had no idea if the letters were related to the crime. But I had a feeling that they were sure to be an interesting read...


End file.
